The Peck & Stewart Spin-Off
by Ana89mika
Summary: A police procedural drama with healthy dose of human emotions. Romance will come in time and it will be a slow burn. I kind of liked the idea of spinning out something for these two ladies...sort of like 'Rizzoli & Isles' but still a little different. Well, why don't you give it a read and decide for yourself? The journey has just begun...hopefully it will be an eventful one.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello guys! How are you all? **

**Hopefully fine and dandy, huh?**

**Anyway, here I am with the new story. **

**It's a police procedural drama with Gail and Holly as the main characters of course. **

**But there is a slew of supporting cast too. **

**This is the first time I am writing something like this. So, kindly ignore the less refined technicalities. **

**I am not familiar with how the Toronto PD works but I sincerely hope this doesn't come off as a mindless crap. **

**Also, I have never been to the beautiful country that is Canada so I have refrained from using particular street names and place names. **

**I don't know if I should continue this or not. Please let me know if it is worth it. **

**And any comment or incidence mentioned in the story is not supposed to be taken in a wrong way. Please, do not take anything at heart. **

**It's purely for entertainment purpose, completely fictional. And I do not mean any offense to any person who reads it. I promise! **

**The characters are certainly not mine. I just love playing around with them. Oh, but the mistakes are mine!**

**So, now without further ado. **

**Here is the first chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**The Peck & Stewart Spin-Off**

* * *

**Fostering A False Hope - I**

* * *

Detective Peck took a moment before exiting her car. In. Out. In. Out; trying to establish the breathing pattern her therapist always suggested. No one really knew but this practice had become a routine of her. An exercise; a rehearsal of sorts to call forth the detached persona she always assumed when at job, a guise that she absolutely needed for the sake of her own sanity. In. Out. Again and again. She flicked her gaze to her blazer on the passenger seat but decided to forego it. The August air was quite humid but didn't carry that particular Canadian chill. She inhaled deeply and took upon the familiar smirk as she finally got out of the car.

Admitting herself to a crime scene in plain, formal clothing still felt a little strange to her after donning that blue uniform for years and years. She gave her attire a secondary approval and hiked up her eyebrows so that her aviators slightly slid down her nose. She was wearing a fitting black trouser that rode her hips snugly with a crisp maroon shirt, cuffs folded neatly just below her elbows. Her sleek brown shoulder holster caused her shirt to stretch at the chest but she didn't pay any mind to it. Why would she when it earned her appreciative double-takes. She was an attractive woman, after all. A thin black belt camouflaged through her pant loops and she never forgot to wear her big-dialled leather watch; the straps of which on most days matched her belt. It was almost always off-centre, a little skewed and situated upon the protruding left wrist bone. To complete the serious cop look she preferred a low heeled ankle boots, of course colour coordinated. Her mother would heartily approve of her attire; she scoffed at that random thought as she made her way to the house.

The neighbourhood was fairly decent; a cul-de-sac suburbia in downtown Toronto. Well, decent enough for a murder in day light kind of incident anyway. As she made her way to the house in front of her, her mind habitually catalogued everything in the vicinity. The cars and cruisers parked nearby, the uniforms stationed outside the crime scene, their faces, their expressions, their displeased sighs, every little thing.

She nodded once to the uniform as she bent down to pass the yellow crime tape and took off her aviators, hooking it in her open shirt over her chest. The inside of the house was abuzz with flurry of people busy with activities. She stepped further inside for a much clearer view. A woman, most probably in her early forties, was lying face down in a pool of blood in the kitchen. Her jaws clenched once and she blinked. The metallic scent of human blood filtered into her lungs through her next breath, leaving a very repugnant aftertaste on her tongue. She carefully examined the kitchen and frowned when she couldn't see a sign of struggle. She picked up a lingering smell of something burnt. And, of course, the pan on the stove was black as coal. "Huh," she hummed. She turned every which way and saw that the CSU and the forensic team were just beginning their work. She would much rather search the entire house than stand and wait for the time of death or basic information about the dead body.

Gail made her way to the hall and smiled at Andy. "Come on," she motioned the T.O. to follow her as she made her way to the master bedroom. Clearly the neighbours weren't too particular about cleanliness. She didn't touch anything just looked around casually. "So, how is the new rookie?" She asked Andy.

Andy groaned as her shoulders slumped dramatically. "Pathetic," she sighed. "I really don't understand how he got through the academy," she shook her head and carried on the silent observation with Gail.

Gail chuckled. She had an idea. "Has he mentioned any connections yet?" It never took the incompetents too long before they tended to brag about their familial links to the higher ups.

Andy nodded, "mmhhmm," she hummed. "His step-daddy is something something...I didn't listen," she shrugged and followed the blonde out of the room.

Gail laughed knowingly. There were more people in the hall than earlier. "Who is he?" Andy lifted her chin in the direction of a rookie busy with his phone. "Is he seriously taking a selfie right now?" She mumbled her astonishment loud enough for Andy to hear.

Andy chuckled, "yup. He does that." She replied as if it was so very natural.

Gail contorted her face and eyed Andy only to receive a defeated shrug from the brunette T.O. She watched the rookie for a few more moments and grinned. "You want me to do something?" She suggested.

Andy shared the blonde's grin. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Gail blinked and thought for a few seconds. "How about a dumpster dive?"

Andy's grin widened, "won't we get in some trouble though?" If the rookie's step-father was really someone influential enough to screw up her career, it would be wise not to mess with the delusional rookie.

"Don't worry," Gail squeezed Andy's forearm reassuringly. "I will be the one giving orders. And you have got no connection like a Peck in the PD." She indulged in the luxury her family legacy brought her but only in these situations. Never for her own career advancement; not that she ever thought about it. "You just get ready to enjoy your day, McNally," she patted the brunette twice and made her way to the kitchen.

Gail pulled up her shoulder length hair into a loose ponytail before borrowing a pair of gloves from one of the forensic buddies. Her eyebrows drew in together in a deep scowl when she noticed a tall, bespectacled brunette in a hideous jacket entering the house. She noticed the red lunchbox kind of thing hanging from the woman's right hand. "Hey lunchbox," she shouted and took a few steps toward the entrance.

Dr. Stewart was in a mad rush. For the first time in her career she had arrived so late at a crime scene. She looked down at herself and groaned inwardly. _Did I really have to wear this stupid jacket?_ She knew taking a detour to Vancouver before starting here in Toronto would come to bite her in the ass. _But on the very first day?_ She had just arrived yesterday and all she was surrounded with were numerous cartons stuffed with her things. She wondered if she could get a day or two off to settle down in her new apartment and unpack her things. She dashed inside without paying any attention to the people around her.

Gail saw the brunette ignore her shout. "What the hell?" She muttered and paced a few steps closer. "Hey lunchbox, you aren't allowed to be here."

Holly heard someone from behind her but in her hurry decided to ignore it. "Thanks, appreciate it." She responded absently.

"Fucking civilians," Gail mumbled. "I said you are not allowed to be here," she ground her teeth and latched onto the brunette's right elbow effectively stopping the woman from taking another step.

Holly frowned when she felt the offending hold on her arm. She turned back and jerked her hand free. "And I said I appreciate your concern but I am allowed," she grit her jaw and responded, lifting her supplies bag for an obvious statement.

Gail tilted her head in confusion. "This is a crime scene and I think the person who ordered the pizza is most likely dead," she deadpanned.

Holly huffed in annoyance. For someone so beautiful, the blonde was extremely vocally unpleasant. "I am allowed because I am the forensic pathologist," she lifted the red bag in the air. "I thought it was obvious," she murmured and shook her head.

Gail's lips curled into a silent 'O'. She trailed her gaze at the frazzled brunette in front of her. This woman seriously needed a lesson in fashion. Granted it's a crime scene but that never should be a license to wear a jacket so disgusting. "Only to nerds," she sniped. "Anyway, can you come back later? This is my crime scene," she asserted with an authoritative frown.

Holly nudged her glasses away and pinched at the bridge on her nose in between her eyes, mentally reciting the alphabets backwards to keep her temper in check. "Are you seriously dismissing the initial assessment of the dead body?"

Gail raised her left eyebrow at that clipped tone. She breathed and motioned the brunette to continue walking ahead. She watched the woman for a few seconds and left to inspect all the areas of the house.

Holly took in the amount of blood and one thing became certain. She chucked off the jacket somewhere blindly before kneeling down beside the body and starting the preliminary examination.

* * *

"So," Gail began tentatively, "what's the report?" She asked looking down at the dead body, careful to avoid the pathologist's gaze.

"Liver temp suggests the time of death to be somewhere between eleven at night and two in the morning," Holly provided with a slight frown of concentration.

Gail hummed absently when she saw that the dead woman was stabbed. "Cause of death?"

"Multiple stab wounds in the lower abdomen area," Holly recited her findings. "But the cause of death is exsanguination." When she didn't receive any response she tilted her head up. "Complete blood loss."

Gail's cold blue eyes clashed to the brunette's and she gritted her jaw. "Oh...thank you," she exclaimed theatrically. "I so did not know that." She shook her head and sighed. She looked around and saw the perfect target. "Hey, Gerald," she yelled the first name that came to her mind. When the rookie looked at her she nodded and motioned him forward. "How is the training going?" She disinterestedly inquired.

Duncan frowned. "Fine...it's going fine. But my name is Duncan," he smiled.

Gail narrowed her eyes. "You don't look like a Duncan."

Duncan blinked in confusion. "I don't know...but that's the name my parents gave me." He sounded comically unsure.

Gail smirked. "Well, then they made a mistake." She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. She knew that the pathologist was watching her every move and a crooked smile pulled at her lips. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "Look at me," she instructed the rookie. Keeping her palms tight and straight, she made a cross across Duncan's figure. "By the power vested in me by the Metropolitan of Toronto, I, Detective Peck, bestow upon thee the name Gerald. From this moment on thou shalt be addressed as 'Gerald'." She then scooped some water and sprinkled it over the rookie's head like it was 'Holy Water'. "Amen."

"What the fuck?" Duncan twisted his face wiped at his wet forehead with his uniform sleeves.

"So now that the naming ceremony is done, we shall call you Gerald. Agreed? Agreed," Gail pointed out to the rookie.

"You can't do that," Duncan argued albeit feebly.

"Tough luck. I already did," Gail grinned. "You are not Jew, are you?"

"No," Duncan replied.

"Ah...good then," Gail cleared her throat. "So, Gerald. You know what a dive is?"

"Uh...yeah," Duncan a.k.a Gerald replied. "I am a regular swimmer."

"Good...good," Gail nodded her head while sceptically scanning the rookie's physique. He so did not look like a regular swimmer. "You are on the dive duty. Officer McNally will supervise, okay? Any questions?"

Duncan swallowed. "What dive duty?"

"Oh sorry," Gail snapped her fingers and made a show of forgetting that little detail. "Dumpster dive duty. The murder weapon is missing from the crime scene and you need to check every dumpster in the five-block radius for it. Simple enough."

"Seriously?" Duncan glared at Gail.

"Are you really questioning my authority, rookie," the heavy commanding lilt accompanied with Gail's tall stance made Duncan step back. He shook his head twice. "Shoo now," she made a jerky motion with her right hand, "oh and...do me a favour? Take a few selfies while you are in there. The website needs some new photos." She was having trouble keeping her grin in check as Duncan kept staring at her to see if she was serious or just joking around. She tilted her head when the rookie still didn't budge. As Gerald a.k.a Duncan scampered away in search of McNally she chuckled in delight. She also heard the derisive scoff from the pathologist. "What?" She barked.

Holly shook her head in disapproval as she stood up on her spot. "You do know that could be construed as religious bullying." Her tone was undeniably condemning. "You could lose your job if he goes to the HR with this," she eyed the blonde who was strangely relaxed.

Gail blinked. "And you could lose your job if you keep wearing that hideous jacket to work." She really hated that jacket.

Holly breathed in sharply. "I was in a hurry," she snapped through her painfully clenched teeth.

"Oh...so that makes it okay then," Gail sarcastically remarked. "It hurts to look at it."

Holly growled and fisted her fingers tightly. "How is it that you still have your job?" She seriously thought HR would toss out such rude, insensitive people.

Gail didn't reply immediately. She matched the brunette's stare for a few seconds before sighing. "Are you new here?" She asked. Someone who thought that Gail Peck would lose her job for something so trivial had to be unfamiliar with the hierarchy of the 'Peck Dynasty'. "Don't answer that. I don't give a shit," she shrugged and stepped outside of the kitchen when the dead body was being put in the body bag for transport. "How long will the autopsy take?" She changed the topic.

Holly glared at the blonde and breathed in deeply. The first ever case and she just had to work with this infuriating, egotistical detective. "You will know when the autopsy is done," she annoyingly replied and stomped out of the kitchen with her jacket and the lunchbox without looking back.

"Whoa," Gail mumbled. _A nerd with an attitude. This should be fun!_ "Price," she yelled and within seconds the tiny brunette stood in front of her with Dov not far behind. "You two...dig into the family history, their financials, their bills, their mortgages, anything and everything. I want the details on my desk as soon as possible." Both the officers nodded and went on their way to carry out the orders. She leisurely swept her eyes around the house while making up scenarios in her mind. There was no sign of struggle which either meant it was a surprise attack or it was someone familiar. She saw Chris coming toward her. "What have you got?"

Chris clucked her tongue. "Your victim wasn't quite innocent." He showed her the twin packets of cocaine in a plastic evidence bag. "Could it be a spat with her dealer?" He put forth his theory.

Gail shrugged. "Who called it in?"

Chris referred his small notepad. "The neighbour...one Mrs. Sadusky. Said the smoke alarm had been going on for too long."

"Ah...the burnt pan," Gail deduced. "Any word on the husband?"

"Nope," Chris turned a page on his notepad. "Says here that he is a truck driver with some transport company."

"Where did you find these," Gail questioned pointing to the evidence bag in Chris' hand.

"The bedside drawer," Chris replied. "They weren't even trying to hide it."

Gail breathed in as her mind got to work. So, the drugs were apparently not the victim's secret. But if the husband is in on it why would he need that job? Unless it's just a cover. "Chris, interview as many neighbours as you can and take someone with you."

Chris nodded and pocketed his notepad. "Four or five doors down, both sides?" He looked at Gail for a nod of approval. "See you back at the station," he said and marched back to exit the crime scene.

Gail pulled off the gloves and dumped it in the forensics waste bin. She stood at the door and put on her aviators. She looked at the two uniformed officers stationed outside the door to guard the crime scene. "Give me a call in case of any activity," she instructed them and went to her car. With all the tasks having been delegated, the only thing she could do was wait. Well, wait and have something to eat.

* * *

The white board in front of her was quite empty. Mrs. Queen's lifeless picture was the highlight of the arrangement, taking the rightful place at the centre of the board. Her concentration broke when all the uniforms who worked in her team entered the bullpen.

"You will not believe this," Dov excitedly dumped a bunch of papers on Gail's desk and slumped in the chair.

"This case just got a hella interesting," Chloe beamed with a wide smile.

"I don't think I have anything of use to offer," Chris grumbled feeling like he had failed in some kind of competition.

"Okay...one by one," Gail capped off the blue marker and stood beside the white board, ready to make notes. "Diaz?"

"The most important thing, they are foster parents," Chris got directly to the point. "The neighbour who called 911...said they always had a kid or two at their home. And she also mentioned some redhead social worker who often visited our victim. Nothing more."

Gail was genuinely taken aback. "Foster parents?" She mumbled and noted it down on the board. And beside that she drew an arrow with a question mark. "Then where are the kids? Or the kid?" They hadn't found any trace of that in the house. She worried her bottom lip in between her teeth in silent contemplation. "Chris, bring that social worker in." Chris nodded and left the bullpen. She drew a circle beside the victim's picture and wrote down the initials S.W. in it for the social worker, marking the circle as 'suspect I'.

"May I," Dov said from his seat dying to share his knowledge and got a nod from Gail. He jumped up and picked up the black marker. "Meet Victoria 'vicky' Donovan. Chrissy and Daniel Donovan's daughter and Claude Queen's wife...well, now dead wife." He mumbled the last part.

"Upper middle class upbringing, never went to college, got married to Claude at the age of 19," Chloe continued. She pulled out a few papers from the bunch in front of her and handed it to Gail. "Those are the financials from the couple's early married life...for about four or five years. Claude worked as a truck driver with a transport company."

Gail skimmed over the document with a furrow. "That was his income?" It was surprising that they could actually survive and carry out their basic needs.

"Yup," Chloe nodded and handed over another bunch of paper to the detective. "Now take a look at this." Without waiting for Gail to go through everything, the officer added. "There are a few reports against her for solicitation in there. May be that's how they delved into drug dealing?"

"Whoa," Gail could see the drastic difference in the income. She checked the address and, in fact, the victim's previous home was in one of the areas well known for gang related activities. But how was this all possible? Drugs, of course. So they couldn't make their ends meet and started prostitution and then dealing drugs. But where and how did the foster system fit in all this? What did the foster kids have to do with this dealer couple? And why would the couple deliberately register themselves in the foster system, putting their whole rendezvous at risk?

Gail threw the papers on the desk and wrote those points on the white board. 'Suburban couple, foster parents, drug dealers' and beneath the victim's picture she wrote 'ex-hooker'. She stared at the board conjuring up as many scenarios in her head as possible. "So, they are poor for years and suddenly somehow become drug dealers. I understand that...it's too much money, hard to refuse. They relocate into a nice neighbourhood and pretend to be a decent couple. But why become foster parents?"

"May be they couldn't have their own," Chloe suggested, ever the optimist.

"It could be a fallback testimony," Dov pondered. "Maintaining a facade always requires living proofs and who better than your neighbours to testify in your favour in case something goes wrong."

Gail hummed. "Hmm...could be." She drew a big question mark on the white board. "Anything else strange?"

"Nah...nothing," Chloe shook her head. "A few off shore accounts in different names, phone bills, gas bills, electricity bills. And yes, the house isn't on mortgage. It's completely paid for and is registered in Victoria's name. In fact, all the off shore accounts are also in Victoria's name...I mean her aliases." She checked the documents one by one as she said.

"This Victoria seems like the dominant one of the couple," Gail mused.

"You think the husband did it," Dov said. "May be he felt emasculated, finally got tired of being ordered around and snapped."

Gail stayed silent for a minute. "Well, there is nothing in these papers. You two go ask around about the husband and if he has been missing for more than twelve hours...start a timeline about this couples' previous day."

Both Dov and Chloe took a few minutes to separate the important documents from the useless ones and after dumping those at their respective desks they left to go find one Claude Queen.

Gail decided to get some help. Her victim might have come under Detective Nash's radar at some point. There was no harm in trying and also she hadn't seen the older detective for a few days now. She snatched off her blazer from her chair and made way upstairs to the "Guns and Gangs". She just hoped she could avoid her annoying brother.

Traci was in the middle of sorting out her recent case files in order when there was a knock on her cabin door. "Come in."

Gail peeked in slightly. "May I please enter detective?"

Traci chuckled and stood up from her seat. "And what if I deny your entrance?"

"Eh," Gail shrugged. "I will still come in." She entered and closed the door behind her. She knew Traci would hug her and she didn't want anyone from the outside to witness her soft side. They hugged and she made a sound inside her throat pretending to be displeased when Traci affectionately kissed her on the top of her head. "I hate it when you do that." She petulantly grumbled.

Traci released the blonde and laughed. "I know. Why do you think I do it?" She pulled Gail with her and sat down on one of the visitor's chair with the blonde on the other. "So, what brings you by?"

Gail slumped in the chair. She liked that about Traci; always to the point. "Got a case," she folded her right leg over her left knee and fingered the cuff of her pant leg absently. "A drug dealing couple. Wanted to see if they ever crossed your path?"

Traci furrowed her eyebrows. "Anything peculiar about this case?"

Gail nodded. "They take in foster kids...on a regular basis I think," she uncertainly provided the older detective. "Not sure about the last part, though."

Traci hummed and nodded her head. She got up from the chair and went to her side of the desk to open the bottom most left draw. From there she took out a file and handed it to Gail. "That is a case I read up on some time back...it's not from here." She returned to sit in her previous spot. "You know last year when I went to this conference in Minnesota we were given that file," she pointed to the file in Gail's hand. "There are two types of dealers; one who deals directly and one who hires a mule." Gail's eyes left the file and caught Traci's. "Dealing directly is dangerous, risky and you are almost screwed if caught because there is no one you can blame it on. Hiring a mule, on the other hand, is less risky. You can always throw the mule under the bus and escape unscathed. But it is also expensive and it takes away good chunk of the profits." Gail's eyes started hardening in understanding. "It is less expensive and very less risky when your mule is someone who can never be on the Police's radar...such as, kids."

"Kids," Gail muttered along with Traci. Now the foster angle fit in the case perfectly. "You think this couple was using the foster kids as drug mules?" She tried to swallow her anger.

"Possibly," Traci agreed. "It is possible that they really wanted their own kids and family but you and me, we don't have the luxury to think of this situation like that. We cannot think best of the people involved and risk losing the sight of a clue staring us in the face." She sighed and shook her head. Sometimes, she wondered, if she had always been such a pessimist or the job had made her so.

Gail wholeheartedly agreed with Traci's thoughts. They really couldn't give the benefit of doubt to people. It was the basic requirement of being good at their job. As long as they looked at everything suspiciously, they were safe. The moment they let their humanity seep into their investigations, they were basically ignoring the fact that people were capable of being the worst kind of monsters they wanted to be. She shut the file and threw it on the table before pressing the heel of her palms into her heavy eyes. "Kids don't deserve that," she mumbled dejectedly.

Traci bent forward and squeezed at Gail's knee. "I know," she offered the useless assurance like always. When would it all end was too daunting a question they faced on a daily basis. If being ignorant to things meant survival for them, then so be it. She pushed back into her chair. "Did you run into Steve?" She changed the topic.

Gail rested both her elbows on her knees and groaned, "no."

Traci grinned at the blonde. "He is still trying to steal you away?"

"When does he ever stop," Gail sighed heavily. "Oh my god, Trace, I have rejected him a million times, literally!" She threw both her hands in the air displaying her exasperation.

Traci laughed softly. "You can't really blame him, Gail." She waited for the blonde to look at her. "He is still hung up on the idea of working with you. It's like he has this whole badass comic thing going on in his mind where you and him fight the crime side by side." Traci wove her fingers through Gail's and squeezed. "You really did break his heart when you chose Homicide over Guns & Gangs."

Gail squeezed back and rolled her chair a little forward. She closed her eyes and slumped forward into Traci for even a minimal amount of comfort. "It's hard for me to trust him after what happened the last time," she rasped out into Traci's shoulder. Her chest constricted in a familiar pain and she pulled in the older detective.

Traci drew comforting circles on Gail's back and gave the blonde a moment of respite. "I know, honey. I know," she whispered against Gail's white blonde hair.

A few minutes went by and they talked casually about anything and everything, conveniently avoiding anything that could make their already tough jobs a lot tougher. Gail's cell phone buzzed with the message from Chris. The social worker was comfortably seated in the interrogation room. "You want to nail a social worker cum drug mule pimp?" Gail offered Traci the chance to extract information from the suspect. There was a huge possibility that there were other similar couples out there who operated their drug business through foster system.

"You want to nab the customers, you nab the pimp," Traci smirked determinedly and followed Gail out of her cabin.

* * *

**So? Thoughts? **

**Positive or Negative? **

**Apologies for the mistakes, sincerely! **

**Oh, and if I do decide to continue this then the updates will be very, very slow and kind of random. **

**Making up cases and then coming up with the whole procedure after that takes a lot of effort. **

**Also, my real life kind of needs my dire attention these days or else my future will be hanged! **

**Thank you for reading. **

**And please do let me know how it was. It is encouraging and heartwarming.**

**Ciao. **

**Until next time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! **

**First of all thank you all so much for reading this fic. **

**Thanks for the encouragement. **

**Thanks for every favorite, every follow, and every review! **

**I can only hope it keeps multiplying as the story progresses. **

**The characters are only borrowed for the purpose of spinning this tale. **

**The story is mine which includes the mistakes. I apologize in advance. **

**P.s: I don't know how true to crime procedures I am in this story but please let me know**

** in case there are any improvements that can be made. Suggestions and help are most welcome. **

**So, without any further delay, here is the second installment. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**The Peck & Stewart Spin-Off**

* * *

**Fostering A False Hope - II**

* * *

Traci concealed a tired sigh yet again. She had been sitting opposite to Sydney Wells for almost two hours now. The redhead social worker was too stubborn for sure. She hadn't budged an inch about the Queens' or any other couple she might be dealing with. "You are giving me no choice, Sydney."

The redhead suspect scoffed shamelessly trying her best to undermine the authority Detective Nash portrayed in the interrogation. "I didn't realize I have a choice," she sagged into the chair, excelling the defeated look.

Traci closed the writing pad she had brought in with her for Sydney's statement. "This is the last time I am asking," she leaned forward and stared into Sydney's defying emerald eyes. "If I walk out of here, the deal is off the table. Completely," Traci tried to warn the foolish woman one last time.

"I will take my chances," Sydney growled, smirking at the detective.

Gail, who had been watching the scene play out inside the interrogation room from the viewing gallery, rivalled the suspect's smug smirk. She licked her lips in sweet anticipation and felt the adrenaline merge with the blood in her veins. She turned to Traci who entered the viewing area bearing a frown of dissatisfaction. "Told you," Gail jibed. "She is pimping out children to be drug mules. Did you really think she would cooperate if you tried to call forth her humanity?" She shook her head. With some people, she just knew, the last resort had to be the first resort. "Now watch me," she pushed her folded shirt arms up the elbows and hardened her features. "When I look at you, turn off the camera."

Traci nodded in an automatic response as she went to stand by the see-through mirror wall. "Get me some names, Peck," she instructed softly before Gail could make the exit.

Gail breathed in sharply before slamming open the door of the interrogation room, startling the suspect relaxing in the chair. She set her jaw tightly and glowered at Sydney for a few seconds. Without faltering her stance or her gaze, she made a show of slowly shutting the door and closing the upper latch before turning to smile evilly at the suspect.

The suspect straightened up and in an effort to appear nonchalant, crossed her arms on the table.

"Detective Peck," Gail pointed at her chest and gruffly introduced herself. "I am not much for manners but let me tell you something about myself." She situated herself on the desk beside Sydney. "I don't care about your rights. Your rights flew out the window the moment I knew how low you could stoop for money." She very calmly laced her fingers together and rested them at her thighs. "I don't know how to play nice. My mother is always telling me to play nice." She shared pointlessly and pretended to be thoughtful for a few seconds. "To be honest, I will need no proof or a paper trail to put your sick ass behind bars. A simple non-existent charge and your case file will rot for years in the courthouse." She untangled her fingers and brought her hands behind her, lifting up her left leg to keep it on Sydney's chair in between the redhead's knees. "Meanwhile you will be transferred from prison to prison and the charges on your file will magically keep increasing." She bent low, closer to Sydney's face. "Every night some prison bitch will come to tame you and keep you in check. Don't worry; I will come by every now and then to ask how you are fairing in your new abode. And one day, when you aren't able to pee without hurting, you will beg me to reconsider. But, you know what, I won't. Because I just won't care about it by then." She inhaled and exhaled languidly. "You still ready to take your chances?"

Sydney swallowed the lump of fear in her throat but kept up the disregarding posture. "You can't do that," she feebly hissed. "The law doesn't allow you to do that." She too knew a thing or two about law.

Gail sneered derisively. "Actually I can. I am somewhat of a royalty and not to mention, quite a few judges changed my diapers when I was a baby." She twisted her face in distaste. _That sounded so strange when said out loud._ "And what law are you talking about? The same law that provides such gaping loopholes to criminals like you?" She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "All these years dealing with perpetrators like you, I have picked up a few useful tricks." Gail turned to the mirror wall and nodded once. "Take a good look at the camera." She whispered.

Sydney's eyes flicked to the camera in the right upper corner of the room. Her eyes visibly widened when she saw the red light wasn't visible anymore. "You can't do this," she cried desperately.

"There are children involved. I can do whatever I want," Gail ground out through her clenched jaw. "Whatever happens from this moment on will have no existence. I can fucking kill you and nobody will question me. For all they know, this room is empty and closed due to some renovation shit going on." She casually speculated. Both her hands were now resting on the chair behind Sydney's head. "Oh and before I forget," she exhaled heatedly, "you should have taken the deal." The last few words came out strained as she suddenly jumped into action. Both her hands pushed the chair back but her leg kept it from falling on the ground completely. The chair was now solely balancing on its hind legs.

Sydney shrieked and her limbs flailed desperately due to the sudden jerk. Her whole body was shaking in naked terror and her heart was thumping loudly in her ears. In reaction, her hands held on to the detective's forearms in a death grip.

Gail was breathing heavily and erratically. She had to make the suspect believe it. She yanked her right hand free and pulled out her gun from the shoulder holster, instantly digging it under Sydney's chin. "Now," she hissed, "you ready to cooperate or should I start putting bullets in your head." Her forefinger pressed onto the trigger. "One by one."

"Stop...it, fucking stop this...please," Sydney started wailing like a four-year old, shaking her head side to side frantically. Her whole body shivered evidently and her eyes were clenched shut while tears poured down her cheeks. "Don't kill me," she blubbered in between her gasps.

"Ugh," Gail was disappointed. She honestly thought the redhead would hold the ground for at least a few more minutes. She pulled face and righted the chair. "You ready to cooperate?" She asked in a low voice as to not spook the crying woman further, the scene was very distasteful for her. Sydney nodded her head vehemently in agreement. "Good...good," she only had just opened the door when Traci showed up with the yellow writing pad.

"You shouldn't have pulled out your gun, Gail," Traci quietly reprimanded the blonde detective as her lips adorned an amusing smile.

Gail bit into her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing out as she grabbed something out of her left pocket and showed the empty butt of the gun to Traci. "I forgot it needed a mag too," she snorted but covered it up by clearing her throat forcefully. "You call me when you are done, okay?" She told Traci as she inserted the full clip inside her gun before holstering it safely. She turned to glare at Sydney. "Don't make me pay you another visit. I might be extra twitchy, who knows. You wouldn't want me to squeeze the trigger by mistake now, would you?" Her smile was saccharine sweet and she only relented when the redhead suspect nodded in agreement in between the hiccups.

* * *

"Nice show in there," Andy caught her as she left the interrogation room. "You really should sell out tickets. You never know...it might turn out to be a good source of some side income for you. You can never have enough money."

Gail laughed along with Andy and accompanied the brunette T.O. to the cafeteria. "That dummy camera thing comes in handy," she mused loudly. Whoever had suggested installing the actual camera out of sight from the suspects was a genius. "You find anything?" She asked Andy as they stopped by the coffee machine.

Andy nodded and a brilliant smile took over her lips. "We found a bloody knife in one of the dumpsters near the crime scene. It could be your murder weapon," she shrugged.

Gail smiled in understanding. "Could be, huh?" She stirred the sugar into the coffee and waited for Andy to continue.

"Well, you know, being such a good T.O. that I am, I didn't let my rookie make any assumptions," Andy chuckled, unable to stop herself. "We searched every single dumpster in the five-block radius. Thoroughly." The last word clearly indicated just how much trouble Duncan must have gone through in the line of duty today.

"Made your day, didn't I?" Gail bumped her shoulder playfully with Andy's. "You're taking my tab tonight." She arched her left brow suspecting some comeback comment but it never came.

"Yeah, sure," Andy agreed. "I took some selfies too, if you want to see?" She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen before excitedly shoving it in Gail's face.

After about five minutes of making fun of the rookie, Gail sighed. "Poor Gerald."

Andy blinked. "Who is Gerald?"

"Gerald a.k.a Duncan," Gail sniggered. "I graciously arranged a naming ceremony for him this morning at the crime scene." She proudly stated, keeping her head high.

Andy frowned slightly in confusion. Gail's antics weren't always that easy or logical to understand so she didn't bother asking. Standing up, she trashed the empty cup. "I just hope I don't get into any trouble. Gerald looks like a tattletale."

"Eh," Gail stood up too. "I was the one who gave the orders. Don't worry." She washed her hands and tore out the paper towel to dry them out. "You dropped the knives at forensics?"

"Hmm, yeah. I had them delivered...hours ago," Andy affirmed and walked out of the cafeteria with Gail. "See you tonight?" She asked the blonde as she walked back to her own desk that was in the opposite direction from Gail's.

The detective assented with a slight nod and went back to her desk. Chris was the only one sitting there. She checked the time and decided to pay a visit to the forensic pathologist. Involuntarily a smile widened her lips at the thought of the tall, brunette pathologist. Glancing at her watch she realized it was already close to four in the evening. Autopsy must have been finished by now. If possible she wanted to wrap this case up by tomorrow itself. After that it was up to Detective Nash how to proceed with the case. Of course, she would be loosely involved but not in an official capacity as it wasn't her department. "Diaz, you are coming with me." She ordered the officer as she struggled with the desk draw. Finally after some fight, it budged. Gail took out the Gum packet from the draw and shoved one into her mouth, closing the draw with her hip.

* * *

"Yo, Rod-Rod," Gail's purpose was accomplished when she heard the trademark irritated groan the intern let out. "Aaww...aren't you happy to see me?" She pretended to pout and frowned at him. From behind her, Chris merely watched the exchange with interest. The officer was too familiar with the greeting ritual that always took place with Gail and Rodney.

"No, detective, I am too happy to see you," Rodney forged a delighted smile and gaped at Gail blankly.

Gail smirked at the unintentional opening. She flicked her gaze to Rodney's groin before looking up to catch his confused eyes. "Where is the proof?" She had the audacity to point a finger below Rodney's waist before she gasped dramatically. "You fraud! I knew there is someone else in your life, isn't there?" She advanced toward the poor guy with hands at ready to grip his neck when someone cleared their throat, rather loudly, from behind them.

Rodney literally stumbled a few steps back in order to escape Gail's foreseen attack. "Oh...thank god," he muttered to himself. "Dr. Stewart...I just came by to drop this off," he waved a thin file and dumped it on the counter where a few files lay in quite a haphazard fashion. "Excuse me," he mumbled as he cut himself a safe path and ran for his life. He always feared any kind of interaction with Detective Peck. There was no telling what she would say or ask!

Nobody spoke for a minute. "Do people always run in the opposite direction when they see you?" Holly very bravely made a dig at Gail. She entered the lab and picked up the file Rodney had left for her.

Gail snorted. _Was this Dr. Stewart foolish or fearless or both?_ She would know soon enough. "Nope...just the ones who can't answer my questions." She cleverly delivered a smart reply.

"Ah...I see," Holly absently nodded her head while she kept reading the contents of that file. "What is the question that Rodney couldn't answer?" It was just meant to be a simple question that may initiate an amiable small-talk while she worked simultaneously. The detective was in a better mood than morning or at least appeared to be.

Gail pursed her lips mischievously and stayed quiet for a second, mulling over her answer. But then she shrugged and replied. "He said he was happy to see me but I couldn't see a tent in his pants," she lifted her right shoulder and tilted her head to left, feigning a fairly furtive expression.

Holly snapped her eyes up gawk at the detective. She couldn't decide if the blonde was serious or joking. _Was it possible that her intern was having an affair with this woman? _But the way he fled the lab didn't point to any such relationship. _That could also be because he didn't want her, who was technically his boss, to know about the relationship, right? Why the hell am I thinking so much about it anyway? _She shook her head inanely. _There went a few precious seconds of her life that she will never get back!_ She simply should have ignored the detective. She should never have attempted to have a small talk. She blinked rapidly and fiddled with her glasses before finally relaxing a little and settling against the desk, crossing her arms across her chest. "How can I help you?" Keep the conversation to the point and minimal, yes, she would do exactly that.

Gail snickered and Chris too snorted from behind her. "Are you done with the autopsy?" She asked after recovering and her personality just took an impressive180 degree turn as she transformed into Detective Peck; not just Gail.

Holly found the sudden shift in the blonde's personality quite interesting. So, the detective was, in fact, capable of being serious. She shuffled a little and picked out the autopsy report from the mess of files. "Do you have someone in custody?" She inquired as she opened the report.

Chris beat Gail by a few microseconds. "Yup...the social worker. She was in business with the victim and her husband." He beamed and Gail huffed at the premature display of confidence.

Holly noted the detective's reaction. "How tall is she?"

"Um..." Chris mumbled doubtfully, confused about the line of questioning. "About 5'5" or 5'6". Why?"

Holly smiled a little. For an officer he seemed too clueless. "She is not your murderer." The doctor confidently stated and passed the report to Gail. "The height doesn't fit. Also, according to the stab wounds, you should be looking for two people." She waited for both of them to absorb that bit of information. Chris and Gail frowned immediately and tilted their head to their left in tandem. Holly cleared her throat lightly to prevent herself from chuckling at that adorable display.

"Two people?" Gail muttered dubiously.

"Yes, two people or a pair or a duo," Holly answered plainly. "The victim was stabbed more than five times." She provided and proceeded to the slab where the dead body was kept covered with a white sheet. "The single wound, the one on the lower abdomen, presents itself as the most hesitant one. There is no contusion of knife's hilt around the wound. Whereas, all the other ones are a result of conscious and forceful stabbing accompanied with the proper bruising from the hilt." She started to fold down the white sheet. "Have a look for yourself."

Gail closed the file and shuffled ahead. Chris uncomfortably cleared his throat capturing the attention of both the living women in the lab. When the doctor and the detective looked at him he shifted from foot to foot, keeping his gaze anywhere but on the dead body that was naked from waist up. He felt the flush gradually take over his face. "I...uh...mmhhmm, I will be outside," he mumbled and dashed out of the lab like his tail was on fire.

Gail frowned disapprovingly. "Grow up, Diaz," she shouted at him before coming to stand beside Holly by the granite slab. The Y-shaped suture was still fresh across the lifeless, pale skin of Victoria Donovan-Queen. Looking closely, she could easily see the difference between the stab wounds. "Why two people? This could be the work of the same person...maybe the murderer made those later stabs after gaining confidence or something." Gail theorized but she knew it was wrong as soon as those words were out of her mouth. If the murderer took time to gain confidence then there should have been at least a little sign of struggle at the crime scene. Regardless, she turned to Holly.

Holly imperceptibly nodded in agreement. "Possible...but the angle doesn't fit." She covered the dead body and shoved both her hands into the deep pockets of her white coat. "Scientifically, the angles of the stab wounds differ with the height of the attacker. That is the major difference here...but I might be wrong." She rubbed at her forehead with the back of her right hand and walked back to the desk, situating herself against it. "It's my personal opinion...and my theories are mostly not baseless." She finished and waited for the detective's input.

Gail thought about it for a few seconds. The doctor didn't seem like a kid fresh out of medical school, so Dr. Stewart must be experienced. And no pathologist would make such theories without any proper basis. She herself could see the vast difference between the wounds, their angles, their depth, and the strength behind each wound. "What are you thinking exactly?" She decided to give the doctor a chance.

Holly worried her bottom lip in between her teeth before basically repeating herself. It was something eating away at her brain since the autopsy and she was glad that she had gotten to share that bit of information with the detective. She had presumed that Detective Peck might flippantly refute her theory and pay no mind to her findings, like many other cocky detectives loved to do with the pathologists. But the blonde had surprised her by actually asking for her personal opinion. So she gave it. "I just told you what I am thinking. And my experience over the years tells me that there is a 98 percent chance I am right." She solidly stood her ground under Gail's inquisitive stare. Her science never betrayed her and the angles of the wounds told her exactly that.

"Hmm," Gail faintly nodded. "Anything else?"

Holly sagged a little against the desk, resting the heel of her palms on the wooden edge of the table. "Yes...the DNA match from the murder weapon and Rodney can give you the...the knife." She twisted a little to pick up the file she had been studying earlier. "Here...all the details are in there."

Gail stepped forward to take the file the doctor had extended towards her but it was pulled away from her reach just as she was about to grab for it. Her forehead scrunched and her flashy blue eyes snapped up to look at Holly's. Keeping their heated gazes locked, Gail again made a move for the file and yet again it was snatched back from her reach. "Okay, seriously?" She growled at the pathologist.

Holly's instinct instructed her to laugh and she did chuckle just a bit but it was sheer professionalism that stopped her from laughing outright. She cleared her throat, swallowed and stood up straight still keeping the file out of the blonde's reach. "The next time your officers decide to drop a hundreds of knives at the lab, you can do the DNA test on them for yourself. My interns are not working to cater, to serve your whims and childish pranks. Understood?" She set her jaw tightly while waiting for the detective's consent to her condition.

"Mmmm," Gail made a disappointing sound low in her throat. She knew it was an unfair and not to mention an unprofessional move. So, she relented quite easily. "Okay...fine," she groaned and sighed when she finally felt the file being placed in between her fingers. "Dr. Cho never complained," Gail murmured referring to the previous pathologist who hardly questioned her methods. She knew he feared that Gail would someday release the dragon named 'Superintendent Peck' on him if he didn't follow her orders silently. Also, she had heard the rumour floating around that poor Dr. Cho's choice for transfer was because of her.

"Oh...yes, Dr. Cho," Holly muttered with a devious grin. People in the forensic department had been very sympathetic to her for she had caught her first case with Detective Peck; who allegedly was responsible for Dr. Cho's transfer. "Well, I am not him. I am Dr. Holly Stewart and the Senior Forensic Pathologist with 15. Your antics might have been enough to run him away but not me." She came to stand in front of the blonde, well into the detective's personal space. With a resolve, she stared down into the ice blue orbs for few long drawing seconds. "This is my lab now and I am here to stay, Detective Peck. So, you better get used to working with someone who is equally capable of theatrics, hmm?" She smiled sweetly at the detective who was still as a rock. "I will be in my office if you need something." She offered and brushed past the stunned blonde with a satisfied, proud smirk pulling generously at her lips. _Working with the detective should be fun if nothing else._ She thought fleetingly while walking down the corridor. She smiled widely and nodded in greeting at Officer Diaz.

Chris waited a few seconds for Gail to make appearance after the pathologist but the detective didn't come out of the lab. He peeked in and saw Gail glaring at the wall. She was standing too still with her brows deeply furrowed, eyes unblinking, and lips closed together tightly. "Gail?" He waved his hand in front of the dazed detective. She blinked but didn't respond. He held her shoulders and shook her a little. "Gail?"

"Stop it, Diaz," Gail growled and jerked out of the officer's hold. She pushed the filed into Chris's chest and turned away. Dr. Holly Stewart...the pathologist's words echoed in her ears. She wondered if the brunette had heard these rumours then maybe the doctor now knew about Gail's family connection within the police force and doesn't care. That was a very refreshing thought and she smiled giddily before realizing that she was actually acting happy on being put in her place by someone who had just joined the force that morning. She clucked her tongue twice and hummed contemplatively. Her theory of working with Dr. Stewart being fun was proving to be absolutely right. "Come on," she absently mumbled to Officer Diaz as she started walking out of the lab.

* * *

The more time she and the team spent going over the facts and reports, the more her suspicion or rather fear seemed to be correct. Gail had gone over the autopsy report thrice already and Holly's suggestion in the lab didn't help at all. It only made her doubts more and more concrete. After cross checking the list turned in by Sydney, they had gotten five kids that had been fostered by the Queen Couple. Not so surprisingly, getting in touch with those kids was proving to be difficult as there were no current addresses or contacts for them in the files. Gail feared what all they might discover by digging deeper into the Queens' lives as drug dealers. Dov and Chloe were tasked with searching for the kids while Chris was instructed to keep looking for the victim's husband.

She had no intention of going through the report again. Gail stood up and stretched her arms wide pushing her chest out. The bullpen was almost empty as it was already about eight in the evening. She felt the rigidity of her spine crack as she kept stretching and purred in satisfaction. She also twisted her upper body and her neck a few times to loosen up a bit. She unfolded her shirts all the way to the wrists and shrugged on her blazer. The unbuttoned cuffs were then folded twice to wrap around the blazer's cuffs once. As a final ritual she pulled her hair loose and ruffled it up a bit, making her hairdo appear as chaotic as possible. She strutted to viewing area of the interrogation room where Traci was questioning Sydney Wells. There were a few detectives from 'Organized Crime' present there too. Within minutes she felt herself getting furious; her jaws clenched every now and then and her fingers were fisted gravely inside her pant pockets. The more she would listen to Sydney's testimony, the angrier she would get. So she decided to just leave it in the capable hands of Traci and walked out of there. This case was already proving to be too haunting when she had only just skimmed the surface. She wondered what was yet to be uncovered tomorrow.

* * *

As soon as Gail entered The Penny, she saw Andy sitting there in a booth with Sam, McNally's detective boyfriend from 27th division along with her senior detective in 'Homicide' Luke Callaghan and some other lady she didn't recognize. After that natural inspection, her gaze travelled over every single individual in the bar as she stepped ahead. She had to do a double take when she saw a tall figure hunched over one of the stools at the bar. She had just taken a few steps when Andy calling her name broke her stride. She went to greet the bunch and made some small talk with them. Luke asked her about the developments on the case and offered his help if she needed so. Every few seconds, she periodically turned to look at the bar not wanting to miss out on such an opportunity. She told the bunch that she wanted a drink urgently and cut herself off from the painful task of socialising without her wish but not before reminding Andy that it was the T.O. who would pay for her drinks tonight.

Holly was too tired to drive herself home. God, she wanted to get blind drunk and pass out here on the bar itself. She pulled off her glasses and downed the remaining scotch from the tumbler before resting her forehead on the back of her left palm; her right hand coming back to lightly massage her neck. Being hunched over her desk for all the paperwork today had messed up her neck pretty badly. Paperwork was the only reason she didn't want to quit working the field despite being the senior pathologist. She had adjusted her contract with 15th division and made her recruiters add that little clause in it. Hopefully once when she will be settled she wouldn't have that much paperwork. She lifted her right hand and gestured the bartender for a repeat of her earlier drink.

Gail smiled and silently witnessed the pathologist's pathetic tired display. When Holly gestured for a drink she had to make her presence known. "Make that two," she said to the bartender.

Holly, recognizing the voice immediately, groaned and lifted her head up. "Great...just the person I was waiting for." She sweetly declared with sarcasm dripping from every word.

Gail snorted and situated herself on the stool beside Holly. "I know, right?" She glazed her response in mock sweetness too.

The bartender placed two tumblers of scotch in front of them and got back to his work. They silently sipped their respective drinks. The quiet surrounding them wasn't uncomfortable; it was rather strangely companionable. Almost like the kind of unheard silence that dwelled between two people who understood the concept of craving solitude and someone's hushed company at the same time.

Holly felt a strange sense of compatibility sitting there with the detective and it made her frown. "Any progress with the case?" She posed the question just to slash through the outlandish comfort she felt with the blonde.

Gail breathed in sharply in relief. She had been contemplating if she should keep silent or say something but thankfully Holly took away that tedious task from her. "Nothing significant," she quietly muttered and asked for another drink for both of them. She traced the rim of the tumbler of her fresh drink and sighed shakily. "Although, as I already fear the outcome of this case I am not sure I want to close it anytime soon." She softly confessed now knowing what made her do it. She was confused at herself but decided not to think over it for now.

Holly turned to her left and looked at the blonde. She had an urge to reach out and offer some sort of comfort but she was conscious enough not to do it. Instead, she placed her right elbow on the counter and rested her temple against her folded fingers. "Why?" She asked just as softly.

"Because I know I am gonna be cuffing a kid when this is all over. A kid who maybe didn't have a choice or a kid who didn't see any other way out of a hell commonly known as 'the foster system'," Gail's eyes fell shut when she realized that she had finally voiced her fear. And above all she had spoken it to the last person expected.

Holly exhaled and didn't say anything. _What could she say when someone expressed something like that to her? _She considered herself socially adept but this minute she heavily doubted it. She watched the blonde appear even more shut off than earlier. All she could do was let the previous silence engulf them both again into that bizarre warp of companionship.

Gail finished her third drink and abruptly stood up, stumbling a bit and chuckling on her own stupidity. She gently slapped away Holly's hand that came to assist her. She wasn't being a drunk just hasty. She called for the bartender and leaned on the counter. Smirking, she pointed to both her and Holly, "Officer McNally is paying the tab, okay?" She waited for the bartender to nod.

"But I can pay for my drinks," Holly grumbled, scowling at herself at her childish tone.

Gail chortled and nodded. "I know but I wanted to buy you a welcome drink and McNally already promised to take my tab. So, don't worry. Technically all those drinks were on me," she winked and walked away.

Holly smiled. "Hey," she called when the blonde started retreating away from the bar counter. Gail turned to acknowledge her with an impressive raise of a shapely left eyebrow. "I didn't catch your name."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "That's because I didn't tell you my name, Holly." She replied and walked away, waving smugly at the smart brunette pathologist over her shoulder.

Holly shook her head and smiled. The bartender asked her if she wanted another drink and she refused. After all, her couch at home awaited her company for a night full of uncomfortable cuddles. Dare she disappoint her faithful couch? No way in hell!

* * *

**So? Thoughts?**

**Did ****the crime procedure appear stupid? **

**Please let me know through reviews or comments. **

**Hopefully it was worth your time. **

**I apologize for the mistakes. **

**Next update not guaranteed. **

**Until next time. **

**Ciao. **


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